She laughed, handing him a sandwich she had built for him. “That sounds like wonderful fun, but I’d rather go with you.”
He shouldn’t be sitting here with her like this. Her nightgown was completely modest, covering her from throat to wrists to ankles. But it was a nightgown and made him picture her lying in bed, her dark hair spread across a white pillow, her arms reaching for him.
“Jake?”
The hand stretched out toward him held a sandwich. The fantasy vanished, leaving him aching and surprised at his own foolishness.
“You left me there for a minute,” she said, smiling as he took the food from her fingers.
If she knew what he had been thinking…He cleared his throat. “Monday you can take the train back to Emporia. From there, you can head to the ranch or go home to Topeka, take your pick. If you don’t want to be with your family, you can go to Berkeley’s. When I catch him, I’ll get him to Topeka and you can see him there.”
“You’re giving me choices? I can’t believe it." She seemed to think over her options. “I choose…going with you.”
He wasn’t surprised. “You know I won’t hurt him unless I’m forced to defend myself.”
“I know.” He knew better than to take her sweet smile as acquiescence. “I still want to be with you when you find him.”
“That’s not one of your choices.”
She glared at him a moment before concentrating on her supper. They split the piece of apple pie, and when the tray was empty, Emily took it to the door. Jake couldn’t help admiring her backside as she bent to set the tray on the floor.
He had to get away from Emily and cool off. “Could we get that tub into my room?” he wondered aloud.
“It’d be easier to trade rooms.”
He eyed the clothes scattered around and gave her a dubious look. She laughed and began tossing articles of clothing over her arm. She didn’t seem to notice that several of the items were of a very personal nature. “Done. See?”
He grinned at her, lifting the cloak from the bed. “I’m amazed,” he said.
He grabbed her bag on the way out and escorted her across the hall. He opened the door and traded her bag and cloak for his saddlebags.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” He took the tiny bottle from his pocket. “The doctor said you should put this on your heel at least four times a day.”
“Thank you,” she said, taking the bottle from him. Her smile was soft and sweet. She seemed touched by the gesture. He felt himself growing hard again and turned to go.
She caught his arm. “Will you see me before you go tomorrow?”
He shook his head. “I want to leave at first light. You need your sleep.”
“So this is goodbye.”
She seemed to be leaning slightly toward him. Surely that was his imagination. He was probably the one trying to close the space between them. “Good bye, Emily,” he said, turning once again.
“Jake.”
He took the last step across the hall before he responded. He should be careful not to be so close to her. “Yes?”
“You might want to go ask for more hot water. I imagine the bath is pretty cold by now.”
He nodded, closing the door behind him before he muttered, “I hope so.”
Emily woke in the middle of the night, her body tingling from dreams of Jake. As she came fully awake the warm feeling was replaced with one of dismay at the vividness of the dream. “It must have been something I ate,” she muttered, rolling onto her side and trying to go back to sleep.
Jake.
Last night she had been ready to let him go. She hadn’t known if she would go to the ranch or to Topeka, but she would have all day Sunday to decide. But now, the thought was too depressing. Was she supposed to sit and wait? Quietly listen to her family’s condemnation? Drive herself to distraction with worry over her future?
If Anson escaped he would head for Denver, expecting her to meet him there. If Jake caught up with him, he would be returned to Topeka. Somehow her bets were on the latter.
If she was with Jake when he caught up with Anson, would she be able to convince Jake to let them go? Perhaps, if she told him she was carrying Anson’s child. That piece of news would come as a surprise to Anson. His reaction might lead Jake to assume she was lying.
She tossed onto her back. Whether it worked or not, it was better than going home to wait. A tiny voice in her brain reminded her that if Anson escaped he might not go to Denver, and if captured, he might not succeed in clearing his name. Her best hope of marrying the father of her child lay in using Jake to help her find Anson and then convincing Jake to let them go.
And that, she thought as she threw off the covers, could only happen if she left with Jake.
She rose and felt along the top the dresser for her reticule. She found the watch she carried inside and read it by the pale moonlight from the window. Ten minutes past five. Jake would probably be leaving within the hour.
With renewed determination, she dressed in the two blouses she had worn the day before, trading the traveling suit for a riding skirt she had packed. She shoved everything else but her cloak into her bag.
In the hall she paused for a moment at Jake’s door. She thought about waiting for him there, but he would simply renew the argument from the day before. No, she needed to be ready to leave with him, which meant she needed a horse.
She crept down the stairs and looked around the empty lobby. A lamp burned low on the desk and beside it stood a bell for late arrivals to ring. She had approached the bell when a clatter in the back of the house caught her attention.
Walking through the dim dining room she found the noise was coming from a room beyond. Light shone under the door and the sound of humming and faint smells of cooking drifted out to her. She opened the door cautiously.
The smell of frying bacon hit her like a blow. Her stomach constricted and she raised her hand to her mouth, stepping back into the dining room and letting the door close behind her. Taking slow breaths, she fought the nausea.
The door swung open and the smell hit her again. This time there was no fighting back. She ran across the dining room, through the lobby and out the front door and vomited into the bushes beside the steps. With a groan she leaned against the building, waiting to see if her stomach would settle or repeat the outrage.
“You poor dear,” said a voice behind her.
She turned to find Mrs. Dutton in the doorway. “I’m sorry,” she managed to say. She brushed her hand across her clammy forehead and shivered in the cold.
“Come back inside.” The woman wrapped an arm around her shoulder, helped her into a chair in the lobby and closed the door. “I thought I saw someone at the kitchen door. Then there was your bag on the floor. Why, I didn’t know what to think. Are you better now?”
Emily nodded, uncertain if it was the truth.
“When’s the baby due, honey?”
Emily looked at her sharply.
“I’m sorry. I just assumed. The smell of food first thing in the morning did it to me every time. Is that nice young man the father?”
Emily considered telling her she was sick from bad food, but thought better of it. The woman would probably know she was lying. Forgetting the woman’s last question, she nodded mutely.
“But he took two rooms.” Mrs. Dutton seemed to be working out a problem in her head. “Probably to protect your reputation. But Mr. Dutton said he bought one horse.” She gently patted Emily’s shoulder. “My dear, your man plans to abandon you.”
Emily looked at the indignant woman and wanted to laugh. She should probably dab at her eyes instead. “That’s why I’m up so early,” she said. “I need to buy a horse and be ready to go with him.”
“That’s the spirit,” Mrs. Dutton said. “I’ll get my husband to pick out a good one and have it ready. Can I get you anything else, a glass of water, perhaps?”
“That would be nice.”
The woman bustled back toward the kitchen, and Emi
ly put her head in her hands. She hadn’t meant to deceive anyone, but it did make things easier. The horse would be arranged for while she sat and listened to her stomach protest The nausea would pass and then she would be starving. She would tell Jake she had been too worried about missing him to bother with breakfast.
Mrs. Dutton returned with a glass of water. “Mr. Dutton is getting the horse now. He’ll come and tell you when it’s ready.”
Emily started to rise. “My money’s in my bag.”
Mrs. Dutton pushed her back into the chair. “I’ll bring it. You just sit right here.”
When Mrs. Dutton didn’t come back immediately, Emily decided she must have had to return to the kitchen. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back. She hadn’t gotten enough sleep last night to make up for the ordeal of the day before.
She smiled to herself when she remembered Jake swinging her up into his arms. A tingling started in her nearly settled stomach and spread through her body clear to her toes and fingers. For a moment she could remember the warmth of his strong body, the smell of his skin.
Caught up in the memory, she inhaled deeply. All she smelled was the oil lamp and a faint scent of bacon. Her stomach clinched again. She waited a moment to see if it would settle, then threw herself out of the chair and through the door. The remaining contents of her stomach joined the rest on the ground.
She groaned, leaning against the building. What a rotten trick God played on women.
With unsteady steps she went back to her chair. Mrs. Dutton had left the water and she finished it, hoping to clear the taste from her mouth.
In a few minutes, Mrs. Dutton returned with her bag and cloak. “There’s a little something for later tucked inside,” she said. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”
“Yes,” Emily croaked. She cleared her throat to steady her voice. “Yes, it’ll pass soon.”
Mrs. Dutton knelt beside her. “Honey, I could ask my husband to talk to your man—”
“No!” She saw the shock on Mrs. Dutton’s face. “I mean no, thank you. We’ll be fine.” She could just imagine Jake’s reaction to Mr. Dutton’s little talk.
Mrs. Dutton came to her feet. “All right. Whatever you think is best.” She patted Emily’s shoulder again. “Just rest here till my husband comes for you.”
When she was gone, Emily closed her eyes. She imagined Jake going to the livery to get his horse and finding Mr. Dutton with a shotgun accusing him of abandoning a ruined woman in his hotel. Jake would call her a liar then, and he wouldn’t be far wrong.
She wondered what time it was but didn’t want to bother finding the watch in her reticule. She was sure nearly an hour had passed since she had left her room. Jake could come down and find her any moment. She would rather he find her in the stable ready to follow. It would give him less chance to argue and she needed every advantage.
With that in mind, she donned her cloak and grabbed her bag. Outside, she cringed at the mess she had made beside the door. What a miserable thing being pregnant was; it was a wonder any woman was willing to go through it more than once.
At the livery next to the hotel, she found a man saddling a pretty bay gelding. “Are you Mr. Dutton?”
“You must be the little lady what needs a horse.” He came forward to shake her hand. “Do you like this one?”
“He looks like a fine horse, Mr. Dutton.” Emily moved to stroke the horse’s head.
“Yes, he’s a fine animal. Your man wanted him last night but my price was too high. Course, I’ll knock a few dollars off for a lady.”
Emily grinned at him. Poor Jake. He must be running a little low on cash. He had paid for both rooms and the meal, and the medicine for her blister. Now she was getting the better horse. Well, they could trade once they got under way.
Mr. Dutton quoted a price that seemed more than reasonable to Emily. She fished the roll of bills from her bag and counted out the amount, thankful she hadn’t given all the money to Anson.
“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable waiting inside?” Mr. Dutton asked.
“I think I’d rather get acquainted with my new horse, if you don’t mind.”
“Here. Hop up, and I’ll adjust the stirrups.”
Mr. Dutton helped her into the saddle and went to work on the strap. “Where you folks headed?” he asked.
Emily said the first thing that popped into her head. “Denver.”
“That’s a long way for a young lady on horseback. Be best to wait and take the train.” He finished one stirrup and slid it over her foot to check its length. He walked around the horse. “Not my place to say.”
“Jake wanted me to take the train,” she said, not wanting Mr. Dutton to decide to lecture Jake. “We have someone we’re hoping to…look up on the way.”
“That’ll be good,” he said. “A place to take a few days rest. My Wilma, when she was carrying the young’uns, she didn’t have the energy to make a trip to the grocers, let alone across the country like you. I remember one time…”
As he talked, Emily’s attention was drawn to the tall figure just inside the lamp-lit barn. She didn’t hear the rest of Mr. Dutton’s story. All she heard was “carrying the young’uns,” repeated again and again as Jake walked slowly toward her.
Chapter Eight
It shouldn’t have surprised Jake to find Emily in the barn. Even the fact that she was aboard.the expensive gelding with Mr. Dutton fussing over her shouldn’t have surprised him. But telling himself not to be surprised didn’t change how he felt.
Mr. Dutton, aware finally that he had lost Emily’s attention, drew his story to a quick conclusion. “I’ll have your horse saddled in a jiffy, Mr. Rawlins.”
With the older man gone, Jake approached Emily. He considered demanding she tell him what she thought she was doing, but he already knew: she was being spoiled and stubborn. He could forbid her to follow him, but she would anyway. He had nothing to use as a bribe or a threat, no power over her whatsoever.
Finally he asked, “Did you sleep well?” He took comfort in the fact that she hadn’t expected a quiet question.
“Not especially,” she said.
“Too bad. Maybe you have a guilty conscience.” He found her bag on the floor nearby and tied it behind the saddle. He checked the length of her stirrups, making a minor adjustment on one. How many times had he done this for her at her brother’s ranch?
Jake moved to the horse’s head and stroked the long neck. The gelding stood patiently, a good sign. At least his Emily would be riding a well-behaved horse.
He looked up to find her watching him. She was pale and drawn in the lantern light. Surely his crack about her conscience hadn’t had that much effect on her. “Are you all right?” he asked.
She nodded mutely.
Mr. Dutton joined them, leading the nearly white mare he had purchased. “Here you go, Mr. Rawlins. Saddle’s a bit used, like I told you, but I think it’ll do well enough.”
“Thanks,” Jake said, taking the reins. He tossed the saddlebags into place and tied them.
“I filled the canteen like you wanted. Threw one in for the lady, too.”
Jake watched him smile up at Emily as he handed her a dripping canteen. He took his own and murmured another thanks.
“Like I was telling the lady,” Mr. Dutton went on. “There’s nothing quite like a family. No, sir. It’s a wonderful thing to watch those young’uns grow, have a wife you call your own.”
Jake spared him a glance as he adjusted the stirrups and checked the cinch. Odd conversation to be having with Emily. Unless…what had Emily been telling him?
“Tell your wife thanks for me,” Emily said hastily. She seemed to be trying to silence the man.
Jake swung into the saddle and eased his mount near Emily’s. “Ready?” he asked. At her nod he rode through the tall doorway and into the quiet street. Dawn was just starting to add a touch of color to the shadowed buildings and bare branches. It was cold, but not the biting cold of a winter storm.
The weather had been kind so far. He waited until Emily joined him then started down the street, turning on a worn track that led west of town.
“If you had any sense you’d be back there sleeping,” he said.
“No one’s ever suggested I had any sense, so here I am.”
Her voice wasn’t quite as carefree as her words. Jake would have liked to see her face, but she had raised her hood, hiding it from view. He wondered if privacy might have been her motive as much as warmth.
She made no effort at further conversation so he left her to her thoughts. His own could use some sorting. He was chasing a fugitive across open country when he had had ample opportunity to arrest him yesterday. His reason for not making his move rode at his side. Maybe he didn’t have any more sense than Emily.
A few miles out of Americus, they forded the river, dismounting at the western shore to rest and let the horses drink. The water was cold and Emily used her scarf to dry the horses’ legs. Jake watched her efforts with some surprise.
As she tied the ruined scarf to the saddle horn, she asked, “How do we know we’re following Anson? He could go off in any direction.”
“Good question,” Jake said, coming to stand beside her. “I guess we just head toward any house we see, ask if they’ve seen anyone that fits our boy’s description. If they haven’t, we keep asking till we find someone who has, then hope they saw which way he went”
She turned her head upward to look at him. Her hood slipped, letting the sunlight glint off her dark hair. “Meanwhile, he gets farther ahead.”
“Until he stops somewhere. The whole process could take weeks, even months.”
He watched her eyes grow large at the prospect. He should tell her he would give up long before that; Berkeley wasn’t worth it. In fact, he would like nothing better than for the man to disappear forever. But he wanted Emily to go home. It didn’t hurt to let her picture a monumental task before them.
“Then we better be on our way,” she said, lifting her foot to the stirrup. With a sigh, Jake helped her aboard, then caught up his reins and mounted. He should have known Emily wouldn’t be easy to discourage.
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